A Christmas Crumble
by 1upDawg
Summary: Miserly Crumbelina Di Caramello hates everything to do with Christmas- but perhaps all it takes is an unexpected visit from a certain ghost for her to have a change of heart. Merry Christmas, WiR fans! (Loosely based off Dickens' "A Christmas Carol".)


A Christmas Crumble

In this moment, she was perfectly content with the normalcy of her usual routine. As the sun crept out from below the candy treetops, bathing all of _Sugar Rush _with its dazzling hues, Crumbelina Di Caramello perched herself before the large, luxurious windows in her bedroom, bow in hand, and began to play her violin. This was the perfect start to any morning- music was her way of shutting out the world, aided by the many walls of her colossal house, and after many a grueling day of racing, where she would be forced to interact with the game's other racers, drowning herself in music was the best thing to come home to. This was her routine, her escape. This, right now, was the way everything was meant to be.

For a moment, she happily began to make her way through her latest composition- until the inevitable happened, just as she knew it would. Even through the room's massive windows, the sounds of laughter and singing found their way to Crumbelina's ears. Instantly, a chill went down her spine, and the violin sounded a wrong note. Grumbling to herself, she approached the window and, after a moment of hesitation, flung it open, and the sound rang again in her head, this time louder than ever.

She had known this was coming- for today was Christmas Eve, and the game's candy-coated denizens were bustling about the snow-covered town square, singing carols and regaling themselves on assortments of cookies. Everyone but her, that is- and that was precisely how she liked it. To her, Christmas was little more than an impediment to her peace of mind, but with it came a break from her usual days of racing, and consequently more time to surround herself with her wealth and music. And so, she patiently waited for the carolers to go on their way, and when all was quiet again she returned to the sofa and began to play once again.

Before long, however, there was a knock on her door. Irritated, but resisting the urge to act out as that would have been beneath her, she hurried down the large staircase to the ground level and opened the door, and a trio of candy citizens broke into song.

"O Candy Cane, O Candy Cane,

How tasty art thou branches-"

Instinctively, Crumbelina flung the door shut with all the strength she could muster. She didn't have time to partake in the silliness of Christmas carols, not when she had her own music. But when the alarm on her wristwatch went off, signifying that it was time for another day of work, she decided that she was simply not going to have any piece of mind today. She didn't know why she hadn't given up on that notion several Christmases ago. Discontented, yet resolved to continue on with her usual routine, she made her way to the garage, hopped behind the wheel of her signature Tira-Missile, and sped off for work.

Even buried beneath many layers of snow, the Kart Bakery was still a familiar sight, as was the security checkpoint she had to pass before she could enter. A bit unnecessary, that, because who wouldn't recognize the game's wealthiest racer from looking at her kart alone? Even worse, the security guard gave her a big toothy grin as she pulled up alongside him.

"Howdy, Crumbles. Having a good holiday so far?" he asked.

"You don't know the half of it," she answered flatly.

"Hmm… You sound kinda out of it today, you know?" the guard remarked. "Must be all of this snow, right? I mean, look at this! They can't keep the track cleared forever, can they? Not that I have to worry about it- I'm taking a winter vacation to _Mario Kart_. Then again, I'm just a security guard, I won't be the one doing any racing-"

"Sir," Crumbelina cut him off, "I would _very _much appreciate it if you could _open the gate, _thank you."

"Oh, right, the gate! Of course," the guard stuttered. Hastily he punched the button on his desktop, and the bakery's gate was raised.

"Well, there you go, Crumbles!" he said jovially. "Have yourself a merry Christmas!"

"Not on your life," Crumbelina muttered once she had already driven away from him.

…

Everyone in _Sugar Rush _knew Crumbelina had the largest stall in the Bakery, dedicated to her Tira-Missile, and one of the most dedicated team of candy fans to help with its upkeep. They knew this primarily because the fans themselves had often complained about the amount of work for which they received minimal pay. Still, they remained loyal to the little racer and would carry on with their tasks day after day, for much like Crumbelina herself, their work had become part of their customary routine.

Crumbelina looked on as her maintenance team carried out their tasks, and the fortitude and diligence they displayed even in the face of their work conditions never ceased to amaze her. It was a bit of a shame she didn't pay them more, but after all, money is a finite resource and had to be used carefully in the face of an emergency, even if such an instance had yet to strike. She continued to meditate on the work of her fans, when a pair of arms seized her from behind.

"Merry Christmas, Crumby!"

"Hmph!" she grumbled as she wrested herself out of the grasp of Vanellope Von Schweetz, the game's president. Just as affluent as she was, yet outgoing and extroverted, Vanellope was extremely popular with the rest of _Sugar Rush_. It should have came as no surprise to her that Vanellope had bought into the nonsense of Christmas, which was unfortunate, as even she normally got along with the young president.

"Merry Christmas, Vanellope, if that's what you want to call it," Crumbelina answered, dusting off her racing jacket. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Well, since it's the holiday season, I thought I'd go door to door and pester you chumps for a little _charity!_" Vanellope replied. "We're trying to have some work done on the track. Think you could pitch in?"

Crumbelina sighed. Being pestered into donating money to charity was not new to her, but a donation request from her best friend? That had to be a sure sign that Christmas was only going downhill every year. Nevertheless, acting entirely on instinct, Crumbelina reached into her pocket and withdrew a single gold coin, which she handed to Vanellope."

"…One coin?" Vanellope asked, dumbfounded.

"Well, I don't have much money on me. Sorry," said Crumbelina as she feigned a look of sorrow.

"Well, alrighty then… I guess…" said Vanellope as she pocketed the coin. "You must be saving up for the raise you're gonna give to those fans of yours, huh? Yanno, Crumby, you've got the most dedicated maintenance team I've ever seen. All the work those little guys put in for you, especially on Christmas… You sure must be proud of 'em, aren't you?"

"I sure am, Vanellope," she muttered, and for the first time in a long while, a tiny pang of guilt arouse within her. "I sure am…"

…

Despite her best efforts to subside it through her work, Crumbelina could never quite shake the feeling of guilt Vanellope had brought about within her. It would linger with her for moments at a time before she would hastily dismiss it, but it never really went away, and more and more, it began to tear her from the inside. But about a half-hour before the Bakery's closing hours, a simple request from a candy fan brought her to a breaking point.

"Excuse me, miss Crumbelina, but seeing as it is Christmas and all, could we, maybe, leave just a few minutes early…?"

For reasons none of them could understand, Crumbelina did the last thing any of her fans would expect her to do: she exploded.

"That's _it! _I can't take this anymore! You know what? You are all free to go now! Forget the last half-hour of work, just get out of my sight!" she roared, marching angrily to her kart and starting up the engine. "And a Merry Christmas to the lot of you!" she sneered as she drove off for home.

It was only as she was en route to her estate did the reality of what she had done sink in: she let a valuable half-hour of work go to waste. And for what- just so a couple of smiling faces in the crowd could have more time for the holidays? They were just her pit crew, after all- it wasn't like they really _mattered_, was it? Nobody standing on the outside of the game looking in would ever see them, anyway. She was the star of the show, not them- she needed all the time and money she could muster. Now that she was thinking logically, she couldn't help but kick herself for what she had done. But there was no sense in worrying about the past, especially when she knew there was music in the near future to help to ease her nerves.

Just the thought of the music that awaited her back at her mansion was enough to calm her down for the rest of the drive back home, but as she spotted a pair of figures huddled near her gate, the anger flared in her again. After all, why else would anyone stand outside the entrance to her house if they weren't there to solicit her, especially on Christmas of all days? As she approached the gate, she recognized the taller of the figures as her fellow racer Adorabeezle Winterpop, which meant that the shorter one could only have been her sister, Nougetsia.

"Oh hey there, Crumbelina!" Adorabeezle called out over the howl of the snowy wind, as though she and her sister hadn't been expecting her at all. "How have the holidays been treating you?"

"Well enough!" Crumbelina spat at them, fighting her anger to keep from lashing out at her. "And I believe you know I hate it when people stand around at my gate?"

"Oh, I know, and trust me, Crumbs, any other day I wouldn't, but hear me out. It's kind of important."

Crumbelina sighed. "Okay, what is it you want?"

"Well, it's about my sister Nougetsia here," Adorabeezle explained. "You see-"

"Allow me to guess," Crumbelina interrupted, knowing exactly where this discussion was going. "Your sister needs medicine for a virus, am I right?"

"Well, eh… y-yes, it is," Adorabeezle stuttered.

It was no secret to the rest of _Sugar Rush_- poor little Nougetsia Brumblestain was by far the most prone of all the game's racers to viruses. Of course, such was to be expected as she and her sister lived out in the freezing peaks of the Ice Cream Mountains, an unfinished part of the game where glitches and game errors abounded. Somehow, Adorabeezle's immune system had the heartiness to keep the viruses at bay, but her little sister was not made of the same tough stock, and year after year the same old illness would plague her. Worse still, there was little she could do about it- the Winterpop family was rather poor compared to the rest of the game's racers. Many efforts in the past had been made to raise money for an antivirus for little Nougetsia, but without Crumbelina's cooperation, they all fell through. And though she would never say it out loud, much less in front of her sister, Adorabeezle knew that it was only a matter of time before her sister's code would simply give up the fight.

"Another virus, eh? Most unfortunate, because I happen to be _particularly _busy today," Crumbelina called out. "I suppose you'll just have to try again some other time."

"_Please_, Crumbs!" Adorabeezle begged. "I'm worried that if we wait too long, she'll…" The peppermint racer took a glance at the scared look on her sister's face, and caught herself before the words could slip past her lips.

Crumbelina paused, then withdrew a gold coin from her pocket and chucked it at Adorabeezle. "There you go," she told her. "I doubt if that will be enough for an antivirus, but maybe your Christmas will be even merrier now. Now, off my property, if you please."

With the gold coin in her hands, Adorabeezle could only look on, dumbfounded, as Crumbelina drove past her and headed home.

…

Sleep, Crumbelina decided, was the last resort to finding solace, especially on a day like Christmas. Music, after all, was simply not going to do any good today. Crumbelina had arrived home, angry and emotionally stricken, hoping to let off some of the steam that had built up within her with a few pieces on her violin. But all she could hear were the carols… they wavered in and out of her windows, the sounds of Christmas joy accompanying them. Even when they weren't there, she could still hear them in her mind, and the notes that emerged from the violin were reflective of this: broken, cacophonous, and ultimately meaningless. Christmas, the way she saw it, was the one day she could never find any means of escape from the realities of the world outside, save for sleep. It was her last resort, and no one in _Sugar Rush _could take it away from her.

Little did she know that one non-resident of _Sugar Rush _was about to do just that.

It was not the sound of the door creaking open that stirred the girl; it was instead that of one of the expensive chocolate vases in her living room falling over and breaking. Of course, Crumbelina's ears were finely tuned to pick up such a sound, for if a considerable sum of money had gone to waste, she would be in on it at a moment's notice.

Crumbelina grumbled, fumbling through her nightstand for a flashlight, before putting on her luxury Godiva-wrapper slippers and tiptoeing down the stairs to inspect the damage. She entered the living room to find one of her largest, most prized vases in pieces. _Terrific_, she thought. This was just the way she needed her already hectic Christmas Eve to wrap up. Then she noticed the open door, and an even more dreadful thought occurred to her: someone had broken inside her house.

Just as the thought passed through her mind, she froze as the sound of the faucet in the upstairs bathroom wafted down to her ears. That was another sound she would have heard from miles away- she was too fiscally minded to leave the lights on or water running in her house for too long.

Creeping back up the stairs, Crumbelina couldn't help but wonder what the meanings of these noises were. Her intruder had an ear for everything that would annoy her, so why were they trying to lead her around her own house, in some twisted travesty of a scavenger hunt? And for that matter, was she in any danger at all? For a moment, as she turned off the water in the bathroom, she considered calling the police. But, after taking a moment to listen around her house for any other sign of an intruder, she heard nothing.

Maybe it really was nothing, anyway. Maybe the wind had blown the door open and knocked the vase over. Maybe, unbecoming of her though it may have been, she had left the water in the bathroom on. At any rate, there was no reason to worry- she could always pay for a new vase, and leaving the water on for this long would have minimal impact on the hydro bill. Everything, she reassured herself, was going to be all right, just as it always had been, just as it always would be.

With this reassurance in mind, Crumbelina decided to go back to sleep. But when she opened the door to her bedroom, the sight of the ghostly figure inside caused her to drop her flashlight in shock.

"Hello, Crumbelina."

…

There was no way this could be happening. Ghosts weren't real- at least, not in a place like _Sugar Rush_. Of course, there were plenty of other games in the arcade, and Crumbelina knew of one that housed _four_ ghosts- including the orange one that now hovered before her.

"W-w-who are you?" she stammered in fear. "H-how do you know my name?"

To her surprise, the ghost gave a bit of a chuckle. "Heh… You look like you've seen a ghost, kid. Name's Clyde. President, Bad Guys Anonymous. I live just down the way over in _Pac-Man_."

Feeling braver, especially now knowing that this ghost was not going to harm her in an instant, she picked herself up and confronted him. "What are you doing in my house?"

Clyde sighed. "Well, to make a long story short, I was tipped off. Ever heard the name 'Wreck-It Ralph'?"

"Of course!" Crumbelina exclaimed. Everyone in _Sugar Rush _knew who Ralph was- mostly because President Vanellope was rarely seen without him after racing hours.

"Well, Ralph spent a long time at our last meeting talking about you," Clyde explained. "About how you always keep to yourself, even on Christmas. About how stingy and selfish you are with your money. About how you won't partake in the holiday season, won't even donate a little money to help your own game-"

"Wait, why would _Ralph _have any opinion about me? Where did he get this information?" Crumbelina asked, bewildered.

"Who do you think could have told him?" Clyde asked, smiling.

_Of course, _she thought. Who other than Vanellope could have told Ralph about the other racers? They were little more than cavities to him, even though after Vanellope told him about the fundraiser and about Nougetsia, she probably seemed like the most spoiled of them all. Still, Crumbelina had thought they were friends, thought she could have trusted her not to talk about her behind her back… How could Vanellope possibly do such a thing?

"Let's face it, Crumbelina, you've made a reputation for yourself, and it's not a good one," said Clyde. "But you aren't the only one- there's a great many scrooges like you lurking in every corner of the arcade. So every year, whenever I hear reports about someone's act of selfishness on Christmas Eve, they get a visit from me. Call me the Christmas Shrink, if you will. But don't worry; I'm only here to help."

"I don't _want _your help!" Crumbelina spat at him. "And I _certainly _want nothing more to do with Christmas! The only comfort I've ever known is my solitude, my wealth and my music, and that's all I want! Christmas is nothing more than the one day of the year that takes all that away from me, and that's all it'll ever be! And now, I can't even sleep thanks to you! You and everyone else in the arcade can enjoy Christmas all you want, but if you've any mercy for me, then leave me out of it! I may be a scrooge, as you say, but I'm not going to change who I am just to make people happy! Now get out of my house, and don't come back!"

Even as Crumbelina collapsed on the floor in tears, Clyde let out the same mirthless, exasperated sigh he had before.

"It's okay, Crumbelina," he finally told her. "It's okay. I'm not asking you to change."

Slowly, Crumbelina sat up, wiping the tears from her eyes. "What did you say?"

"I'm not asking you to change," Clyde repeated. "After all, I firmly believe that we can't change who we really are. I only want to show you that this perception of you… the greediness, the loneliness, the lack of holiday spirit… That isn't who you really are."

"But how do you expect me to change all that?" Crumbelina demanded. "You're right… if I _could _change all that, I would… but how am I supposed to just become something I'm not?"

"I don't change people, kid," Clyde explained. "All I can do is show them what will happen in the future if they remain _unchanged_."

"Show me, then," Crumbelina demanded. It wasn't like this was all really happening, anyway. This was all just a dream, it had to be…

"Alright then," said Clyde, as a blinding burst of light swallowed up the room. "Get ready for a trip to the future…"

…

When the light faded away, Crumbelina and Clyde were standing inside a large ballroom, which Crumbelina recognized as that of Vanellope's castle. "What are we doing here?"

"We've just jumped forward in time," Clyde explained. "This is the Christmas Eve that will come about next year… should things remain as they are."

Crumbelina blinked, looking around. The room was full of people talking, eating and dancing, most of whom she recognized as her fellow racers. Then she spotted an all-too familiar face, one that she now had a beef with, and hurried over to Vanellope, hoping to scold her for speaking ill of her behind her back.

"Vanellope!" Crumbelina yelled, reaching out to grab her arm, but to her surprise, her hand passed right through it. Even more peculiarly, Vanellope didn't seem to notice. Crumbelina tried coughing, snapping her fingers, even waving her arms around, but the tiny president gave her no sign of acknowledgement whatsoever.

"Can't she hear me?" Crumbelina asked Clyde.

"No," Clyde answered. "We're invisible to them. So go on, take a listen to what they've got to say."

Reluctantly Crumbelina seated herself at an empty chair besides her president, who was talking and laughing along with a rather tipsy Candlehead. Before long, another familiar voice sounded out behind the two partygoers.

"Hey, Vanellope!"

Crumbelina was greeted with the sight of Taffyta Muttonfudge, wearing a party dress to rival her own usual attire, as she jumped into Vanellope's conversation.

"'Ey, Taff. Lookin' good tonight, I see," Vanellope greeted her.

"Nice of you to notice," Taffyta smiled. "At least someone finally compliments this outfit. You know how many gold coins it cost? Good thing I've had so many race winnings this month."

"Well, it sure paid off!" Vanellope beamed. "You look almost as posh as Crumbles does!"

"Oh, really?" Taffyta remarked. "That's saying something, seeing as no one ever sees her anymore off the track. You'd think she'd have the sense to catch one of your Christmas parties!"

Taffyta's words sent a chill down Crumbelina's spine. _No one… ever _sees _me anymore? Not that… that's such a _bad _thing… but…_

"Aw, I've given up trying to invite her," Vanellope groaned. "No sense in trying to talk Christmas with Crumbs. It's bad enough she hasn't donated to the annual fundraiser for two straight years now, but she doesn't even talk to people anymore. All she ever does off the track is hole up in that big ol' house of hers."

"She won't even donate to the fundraiser? I pitched in just about as much for that as I did for this," Taffyta said in disbelief, tugging at her own evening dress.

"Yeah, and with just a fraction of all that money she has, we could afford to upgrade this game _forever!_" Vanellope chuckled. "But every time we ask, no dice."

"Wow… what a scrooge," Taffyta remarked.

"You said it, chumbo," Vanellope sighed.

A tear formed in Crumbelina's eye. _A _scrooge? _Is this really what everyone thinks of me?_

Taffyta smiled. "Well, you've always got _my _back, Vanellope."

"Thanks, Taff, but if things keep up we're gonna need more than your help," Vanellope explained. "Without Crumbs it's gonna take a lot of work on everybody's part to keep the game in shape. The track's getting worse and worse each year, and I don't know how much longer we can keep it running…"

Taffyta seized Candlehead as she began staggering in her direction. "Well, Vanellope, knowing you, I'm sure you'll think of something. Come on, Candles, let's get you home. Thanks for the party, madam President!"

"Thanks for coming, Taff!" Vanellope called out to her, as the room suddenly vanished into thin air once again.

…

Crumbelina and Clyde materialized into Vanellope's castle once again, but this time in her throne room. Immediately, Crumbelina knew something was wrong. The castle, once teeming with life and a popular place for the racers to visit, now seemed bare with the absence of any of her servants, even the palace guards.

"Welcome to Christmas in _Sugar Rush_, three years from now," Clyde informed her.

As Crumbelina stood wondering what could have happened, the throne room doors flew open, and in stepped a much different Vanellope Von Schweetz than the one she had seen in the vision from two years ago. There was no twinkle in her eyes, no look of vivacity in her face. Her hair was even more unkempt than usual, and there were deep lines under her eyes, giving her the appearance of a person who had gone without sleep for weeks. Rather than bound about the room, as her usual self was apt to do, she instead paced the room, muttering to herself as she went along. For the first time, as far as Crumbelina could tell, it looked as if she was actually taking her duties as president seriously.

Crumbelina wanted more than anything to comfort her, to say something- anything- but she knew it wasn't possible. However, Vanellope's pacing was soon interrupted by the arrival of another racer, a redheaded figure she instantly recognized as Jubileena Bing-Bing. Even Jubileena didn't look her usual, cheery self, Crumbelina noted- she actually seemed _worried_ about something as she hurried to her president's side.

"V-Vanellope?" Jubileena asked timidly, producing a tin from behind her back. "I baked you a pie…"

Vanellope didn't even turn to look at her. "Thanks Jubes, but I've got too much to worry about right now to eat, let alone to host the party this year."

"Why?" Jubileena asked. "What's happening?"

Vanellope sighed. "Well… you know those rumors that've been going around? About the track being in disrepair and the budget being too low to fix it?"

"Yes, but those can't be true, right? …R-right?"

"I hate to say it, but… yes, they are true."

Jubileena dropped her own pie in shock, and it burst at her feet, covering her frilly red skirt in cherry cobbler. "Well, then you don't have a choice, right?" she cried. "You've _got _to get Crumbelina's help! It's the only way!"

"It's pointless, Jubes," Vanellope sighed. "She's not coming out of that fortress of hers, not even for races. As long as she's hiding behind her money, she sure isn't going to want to share it with us. What are we gonna do, tear her house down just to force her out? There's nothing more we can legally do, Jubes, except wait it out and hope for the best."

Crumbelina was stunned. _I'm not even _racing _anymore?! But racing is the one thing I love just as much as music… How could I have let this happen?!_

"What do you think she even _does _in there?" Jubileena sneered. "I heard a rumor that all she ever does is sit around and play on that stupid violin of hers. If only she knew what was going on… maybe then she'd finally stop fiddling while _Sugar Rush _burns!"

"Maybe, but for now there's not much we can do," Vanellope groaned. "Well, try to have yourself a Merry Christmas anyway, Jubes. And while you're at it, do us all a favor and wipe that cherry crud off your skirt. For candy corn's sake, you look like you just hit puberty."

Powerless to look on as her home crumbled, Crumbelina felt a stream of tears stream down her face as the scene dissolved again.

…

Crumbelina braced herself for the realm of _Sugar Rush _to return again, but the world that reformed before her was vastly different from what she was expecting. The uniform rows of houses that lay in front of her were made of brick, not candy, and the light from their windows gave off an ominous glow against a pitch-black sky. High above her, a sign proclaimed the words, "Welcome to East Niceland".

"Where are we…?" she asked. Unlike the other racers, she tended not to leave the game after hours, and had no idea what other games in the arcade were like. Needless to say, however, this sure wasn't _Sugar Rush_.

"I suppose I've got some explaining to do," Clyde began. "This is _Fix-It Felix, Jr._, the game Ralph comes from. Five years from now, it'll be the home of the Sugar Rushers, after their game gets unplugged."

The news struck Crumbelina like a bullet. "_Unplugged? HOW?!_"

"After being raced on for so long, the track's condition was so bad that it became unusable, and the rest of you kids were out of a job," Clyde explained. "Because you cared about your money and your solitude so much that you wouldn't bother giving back to your own game. And now it's gone, and the livelihoods of your fellow racers with it. So now, they're all living with Ralph here in his home game."

Crumbelina was aghast. Everything was gone, all because of her- her friends, her home… _her home…_

"Wait a minute!" she exclaimed. "Where am _I_? What happens to me in the future?"

"See for yourself," answered Clyde, gesturing towards a small enclosure beside the sign, surrounded by a small, white picket fence. At first, as she approached it, she couldn't see anything. But as she neared the fence, a small chunk of marble came into view. Crumbelina read the words etched in the rock and gasped in horror:

Crumbelina Di Caramello

1997-2019

Rest In Peace.

Someone, most likely a Sugar Rusher due to the rather crude handwriting, had used a permanent marker to cross out the word "peace", replacing it with "pieces".

"You never made it out of _Sugar Rush _with the others," Clyde explained. "You wouldn't even leave that mansion of yours- you just played on as the world around you collapsed. You doomed your own world to being unplugged, and you went down with it."

"No," she breathed. "This can't be possible…"

As she stood there, trying desperately to collect herself, fighting every impulse within her to sob, a pair of Sugar Rushers entered the cemetery, walking towards a second gravestone that had initially escaped her attention. Curiously, she followed them, wanting nothing more than to banish the image of her own grave from her mind. Approaching them, Crumbelina recognized the figures: Vanellope, dressed in snow boots and an unusually formal coat, and Adorabeezle, wearing a variant of her usual outfit as black as her hair. Even over the howl of the snowy wind, Crumbelina was able to hear that Adorabeezle was sobbing as she placed a wreath before the grave.

"There, there, Beez, she's in a better place now. She's happy now," Vanellope was telling her.

"I- c-can't- _take it!_" Adorabeezle wailed between sobs. "I can't… live without her… can't go… on like this… she was my _everything_…"

Somehow, Crumbelina didn't think this show of affection was aimed at _her_…

"Hey. Listen," Vanellope said, suddenly serious. "I know you've never been chock full of moolah, and I know Crumbs was too much of a jerkface to share any of hers with you. But I know one thing about Nugget, and that's that she had more will to live in her than any other racer- _especially _Crumbs. Who else could've helped rally everybody up to get the rest of us out in time? Nugget was ten times the racer she ever was." Vanellope pointed in the direction of Crumbelina's gravestone, then opened her arms to embrace Adorabeezle. "C'mere."

Adorabeezle stumbled forward and fell into Vanellope's arms, sinking her face into her chest. "I… I miss her so much…" she sniffled.

"I know, Beez, I know," Vanellope answered, cradling her friend in her arms. "I know. We all do."

It was only after Vanellope had left the graveyard, dragging a sobbing Adorabeezle close behind her, did Crumbelina dare to approach the gravestone, hoping not to see what she thought was written on it, knowing she would. With a sinking feeling she read:

Nougetsia Brumblestain

1997-2018

"For we shall all be changed… in a moment,

In the twinkling of an eye,

At the last trumpet… For the trumpet shall sound,

And the dead will be raised incorruptible,

And we shall be changed…"

_-I Corinthians 15:51-55_

Crumbelina could see Nougetsia's grave had been written on as well, but instead of graffiti, she instead found a note from Adorabeezle scrawled on her sister's gravestone:

I love you, sis. Always.

-A

There was no point in trying to hold it back now. Feeling the strength in her limbs slip away, Crumbelina collapsed to the ground, tears in her eyes. Nougetsia was dead, and it was entirely her fault.

"No…" she sobbed.

"Well, that wraps up our trip to the future," she could just hear Clyde saying.

"No… Oh code, no…"

"I hope you've enjoyed yourself, and have a Merry Christmas," said Clyde as the bright light returned.

"_No!_" she wailed as the light swallowed her up.

When the world returned, Crumbelina found herself back in her bedroom, the entirety of _Sugar Rush _restored just as it had been.

"NO!"

It was all she could say as, without thinking or bothering to change into warmer clothes, Crumbelina ran out the door and into the icy storm outside. Across the track. Through the Nougat Mines. Finally into the Ice Cream Mountains. Calling out "No!" the entire time. She had to see it for herself, see that Nougetsia was still alive, or her heart would surely give way. She _had _to see it…

At long last, she finally reached the Winterpops' house and peered through the window, hoping desperately to find a glimpse of her. But her efforts were in vain- the house was dark and derelict, with not even the light of a Christmas tree to indicate any sign of life.

"No…" Crumbelina moaned weakly, as her exhausted body gave in to unconsciousness, collapsing in the snow like a fallen angel.

…

"Merry Christmas, Crumby!"

Stirring feebly, Crumbelina sat up. The first thing that occurred to her was that this was _not _her room- judging by the rustic interior, she had to be inside the Winterpops' house. Even stranger, she realized she was not alone- Vanellope and the rest of _Sugar Rush_'s racers were there to greet her. Even her own fans were there, and they offered her their greetings and condolences as they passed by.

"Are you okay, miss Crumbelina?"

"You gave us a good turn there, Crumbles."

"Good to see you're alright!"

Crumbelina was, however, in for the most pleasant surprise when Adorabeezle entered the bedroom, flanked by Nougetsia.

"Hey, Crumbelina. We sure weren't expecting you to turn up at our doorstep," Nougetsia giggled.

At the sight of her Crumbelina flung out of bed and ensnared her in an enormous hug. "Nougetsia!" she exclaimed, tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry for how I treated you last night… Please, let me help you, I can pay for an antivirus for you!"

Nougetsia's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Turning up at our place is one thing, but _this _is the absolute last thing I expected!" Adorabeezle chuckled, joining Crumbelina and Nougetsia in their group hug. As the other racers joined in, Crumbelina found Vanellope and whispered, "Make sure you stick around when I'm writing my check for the antivirus. I've got plenty more for the track!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Crumbo," Vanellope smiled.

"Hey, since we're all here," Candlehead suggested, "why don't we have a party to top off Christmas Day?"

"Count me in!" Jubileena agreed.

"Well, what are we doing here then?" Crumbelina asked, smiling. "Why don't you all come to _my_ place for our party? My treat!" The other racers all cheered in agreement.

Before anyone in _Sugar Rush _knew what had happened, the game's racers found themselves in the abode of a happier Crumbelina Di Caramello as she entertained them with her violin. Sure, she may have sacrificed a little of her wealth of money, but she had a new, never ending wealth of friendship to replace it. This, she felt, was her new life- the way that everything was truly meant to be.

THE END

Merry Christmas and the happiest of holidays

to all my readers and fellow WiR fans.

-1upDawg


End file.
